Seen It All
by Lightning at Noon
Summary: Mags never regretted dying to save Finnick because she had seen it all - all except the hope she saw now. She had seen her hope destroyed with the Capital's bombs during the Dark Days. She saw the Hunger Games destroy her and all her tributes. She had seen too much despair in her long lifetime to lose the hope she finally saw.
1. Prologue

**So this is Lightning at Noon with my first Hunger Games fanfic. I have very ambitious plans for it so hopefully I can achieve them.**

**I've read back stories for many of the victors, but I've never seen one for Mags. And she must have lived through so many events, I just wanted to write it. If everything goes according to my plan, this should last Mags' entire life. **

* * *

**Prologue**

"I'm sorry, Mags. I can't do it."

Poor Finnick. He didn't want to have to say that. He tried to promise me beforehand he would never say that, but I couldn't let him make that promise. I had already lived so much, and everyone else had lived so little.

Annie had seen so little goodness, so I saved her. She would live. And now Finnick needed saving. And our Mockingjay. And all of Panem. And I had done so little saving in my life.

So I kissed Finnick and walked away. And walked towards the poisonous fog that seemed to have slowed just to watch me approach it. Before any of them could stop me, I let it engulf me.

I lost control of my muscles but my mind was still intact. And in my 82 years, I had many regrets. But sacrificing myself was not one of them.

* * *

**So this is really short, but it's just an introduction. Depending on my life, I should update at least once a week - especially with holidays approaching. **

**Reviews and ideas are always appreciated!**


	2. Dark Days: Chapter 1

**Here's the first real chapter! I hope you enjoy.**

**The story should be broken into 4 parts: the Dark Days, after Rebellion and her Hunger Games, time as Mentor, and the 75th Quarter Quell.**

* * *

**Part 1: Dark Days**

The Dark Days were truly dark. But I didn't know they were the Dark Days at the time. For me, they were just days of confusion. My district, District 4, was in rebellion. I was just 7 years old at the time.

* * *

My skin was a sickly white, and my blonde hair that had once glistened was a dull color, like descaled fish. I hadn't seen the sun in what seemed like forever and the closest thing I had to light was the small candle that burned in the corner.

Mother said it was a giant hide-and-seek game. It was fun in the beginning. I could hear people screaming that they had been found. Mother said Brother had already been found which was why he wasn't coming home. Maybe he had been one of the people screaming because he never liked anyone beating him.

But after playing for so long, it wasn't fun anymore. There were less screams now, so I'm sure I was winning. And I'm sure the seekers weren't looking for a little girl. I bet they never thought I'd make it this far.

I've been repetitively told not to leave the cellar. Either Sister or Mother bring down some bread and broth so I don't even have to leave to eat. There's even a little pot in the corner so I can go to the bathroom.

It gets boring down here so I listen. I hear people running and screaming outside. Mostly I hear noises I can't identify. Sometimes I can hear Mother and Father talking upstairs if the streets are quiet. They talk about District 13 and President Jasper. I wonder what jabberjays and tracker-jackers are. For some reason, they talk of weapons and death.

I'm curious, but not enough to ask. I feel like it has something to do with this game of hide-and-seek, but I can't figure it out. And it frustrates me that I can't figure it out. And there's no way I'll ever figure it out if I'm stuck in my cellar.

I'm sure I can sneak out of the house since I've hidden from the seekers for an entire month. I just need to wait until my candle burns out and another day has passed. Even in the dark of the night, I know I could find my way to the little cave I found on the beach when I was younger.

The cave isn't too far from the docks where the men gather to basically gossip before they start work for the day. I'm tiny and quiet, and I'm sure I could sneak under them to listen in. Not to mention that my skin and hair are practically the same color as the white sand. I know I could do it.

So for now, all I have to do is wait. I rip off a tiny piece of my dress and play with the string. There's really nothing to do, and I've learned tying knots can be a lot of fun. Some look pretty and some get really tight. There's a pile of string on the floor with knots I couldn't untie.

I'm trying to think of a new one when I hear the cellar door creak. Mother is at the top of the stairwell with a steaming bowl in her hand. "How's my darling Magdalena?" she calls down to me. It's only a whisper because I'm still hiding but it's the loudest voice I've heard all day.

"Just a little bored," I tell her as I ran to her. No need to tell her about my plan. I'm a big girl now.

She puts the soup on the table right before I wrap my arms around her waist. Usually she picks me up but today she just winces. And them I feel it – there's some kind of lump under Mother's loose shirt. Before she can stop me, I lift it up.

Instead, it looks like a big version of bandages I got when I fell on the dock and got a huge splinter in my arm. And there's so much red on it.

I just kind of stand there as Mother slowly pets my hair to comfort me. She saying something but I can't listen. That's blood. All that red is blood. And I know that's a lot of blood. Brother used to take me on the fishing boats where they would kill the fish. When that much blood had come out of the fish, it was dead, and I could take it to the ice fridge below deck.

"Mother, you're not a fish. Why are you bleeding? You don't belong dead in the ice."

This couldn't be why they were talking about death the other day, could it be? I would have noticed before now. I'm sure I would have.

Mother just keeps stroking my hair. "I just dropped my knife when I was slicing your bread for dinner. It's nothing to worry about. Please don't worry about me."

"Oh." I got all worried about nothing. No one out there would hurt her. But something didn't seem quite right about what she was saying. It made perfect sense, but then it didn't. Mother wouldn't lie to me, so I just accepted what she said.

She kissed me on the forehead and managed to pick me up, balancing me on her right hip, not the one with the bandage. I clung tight to her as she carried me over to my cot in the corner. Using her free hand, she moved the covers back and put me down on the cot.

"Mother," I whined, kicking off the covers. "I don't wanna go to bed. All I've done today is sit around."

"Magdalena," said Mother slowly. She pulled the covers back up and tucked them around me. I though she'd say something else, but she just went to the table and grabbed my bowl of soup to bring to me. She forced me to hold it and waited till I started eating it to speak again. "I need you to go to bed and get a lot of sleep. Tomorrow's going to be the last day of hide-and-seek, and there's going to be a really loud finale."

I just looked at her with my big blue eyes. I didn't want to wait another day. I wanted get out of this cellar now. I pounded my fists on the side of my cots in frustration. Mother just sighed and kissed me again before leaving. She turned around, and I could see bags under her eyes. It must be tiring to hide both of us.

But I could hide myself. And I'd defiantly have to do it tonight if Mother was right about the grand finale. There was no time to waste.

I rolled out of bed and slowly stumbled to my feet. I grabbed a couple spare clothes and packed them into a sack that was sitting in the corner. Sipping the rest of my soup, I put my bowl and spoon in there too. Glancing around the room, I throw my pile of string in there for good measure.

The cellar had two entrances. Mother used the one that lead to our main room. The other one is in the back kinda hidden by a bunch of empty crates that had once held something. Squeezing between a couple of them, I wiggled to the concealed stairs.

They're really gross, and they're cobwebs all over them. Not that spiders scare me or anything. They're just creepy and crawly and okay, they're very scary. But I had to get out that door. So I slowly tread forward in my slippers, trying to balance on my tip-toes.

Suddenly I lost balance and I swung my hands around trying not to fall over. Instead, my hand plunged right into the middle of a web. "Eek," I shouted, shaking my hand frantically trying to shake off any spider that might have climbed on in that brief second. They are sneaky evil creatures, and I wouldn't put that past them. Ever.

So I shook my hand for a good minute before I decided it was acceptable to even look. Peeking slowly, I saw no spider but they felt like rubber, probably from shaking it: hopefully not from deadly spider venom. I don't think there are any venomous spiders in District 4.

Breathing a sigh of relief that I'm most probably not dying, I make it the rest of the way up the stairs with no more mishaps. But getting to giant metal doors, I start to get a little worried. Father had made us practice sneaking out of the house like this, and he had always opened the doors for us. They looked awfully heavy for just me to lift.

But I was so close to being outside again. I missed the sun on my skin and the smell of the salty ocean breeze. So bracing myself on one of the steps, I start pushing against one of the doors. It creaked a little and some rust fluttered on to my face. Coughing a little, I redoubled my efforts.

All of a sudden, my back foot slipped off the step, and I slammed both knees on the ground. It literally hurt too much to scream, and all my breath was sucked out of my body. Getting shakily back too my feet, my breaths came out in gasps. One of my knees was bleeding but I tried to ignore it. Blood, well my blood, didn't really bother me; not in the same way spiders did.

I narrow my eyes at the door. I wanted to get out, and it was in my way. It needed to move, and I'm the only one who can move it. So I spit on my hands and rub them together like I've seen Father and Brother do on the fishing boat.

Once again, I pushed against the door. I feel my feet slip again, but I manage to brace them. I see a sliver of sand and dune grass that it my backyard through the small crack I'm making. My face is getting red, and I close my eyes and push even more.

All of a sudden, I tumble forward. The door must have been stuck somehow, and it obviously wasn't anymore. The sound of the metal falling against the sand makes me flinch. I hope it wasn't so loud. Mother is a deep sleeper but Father would always wake up whenever I made the smallest noise.

I don't see any candle light from their room, so they must have slept through it. The room I used to share with Brother and Sister is still dark. I award myself with a little dance and kick some sand around. I look up at the almost full moon. The entire neighborhood is darker than I've ever seen it, and there are so many stars in the sky.

I bet I could see them even easier from the beach. So I make my way slowly to the front of my house. I can barely see anything by just the light of the moon, and my knees are still slowly throbbing.

Left. Straight. Right. Straight. That's how I get to my secret cave. I made an unexpected turn one day as I ran to the dock after hearing the sirens that caused everyone's stomach to flip – the one that signifies a boat had sunk. It wasn't the boat my Father or Brother were on but after getting to a new beach and falling through really high dune grass into this hidden cave, I didn't want to leave it. It felt separate from the real world. I forgot about worrying about my father and brother. So whenever I didn't want to be bothered by anything, I'd come to this cave.

There's a lot of gravel and debris in the street, and I almost trip over what looks like a steel bar. It's a little confusing because our streets are usually well kept. Maybe people were taking this game of hide-and-seek very seriously. Well, they weren't going to beat me.

All of sudden, I hear people from behind me. Quickly, I duke behind a building hoping they didn't see me. All they walk past, I notice they're all men with the exception of one woman who I don't recognize. They're all carrying something over they're shoulder but it's too dark to tell what it is.

"District 13 better come through," I heard one of the men say. My ears perk up; something about District 13 again. "We won't last much longer without them,"

"They'll come through," says the women. "They have the most to lose out of all of us. Who do you think the Capital will blame?"

"Doesn't matter if they initiated it, we'll all get blame if this somehow doesn't work," says a different man.

Their quiet banter continues, but they move too far away from me. I want to follow them and learn more, but I know I'll get caught. I'm lucky they weren't paying too much attention to their surroundings.

Checking that there aren't anymore people just walking around, I sprint the rest of the way. Most of the houses look abandoned, and I wonder if it has anything to do with District 13. I don't see any connection because travel to other districts has always been forbidden.

I skid to a stop when I reach my beach. Someone had put a tall wooden fence around it. Now this was weird. It wasn't a forbidden beach; it was just that no one had every really used it because the waves weren't good enough for surfing. Well, this stupid wall wasn't going to stop me.

I wasn't going to get over it with my bag, so I tossed it over first. Jumping, I realized the top of the fence was quite a bit taller than I originally though it was. I stomped my foot in frustration. I needed to get over it somehow. Especially after hearing about District 13 and seeing the empty houses. I'm sure this wall was another stupid development in this mystery.

Looking around, I spotted a bunch of bricks, boxes, and those metal beam things. Very slowly, I dragged the metal beam over to the fence. After some pretty awesome maneuvering on my part, I got the thing leaning against the fence. It was close enough to the top that if I could get on the end, I could defiantly grab the top of the fence to pull myself over. Stacking the boxes like stairs, I take a step back to look at my work. I'm pretty proud of myself, and I let out a happy squeal.

The boxes are a little wobblier than I though they would be, but I do manage to pull myself on top of the beam. As I put my weight on it, I feel it shift beneath me. Quickly I grab the top of the fence and the beam completely falls out from under me. My legs are dangling beneath me, and it's not nearly as fun as it sounds.

After wiggling for a while, I manage to get my comfy yet really slippery shoes to grip on the fence. Using both my arms and legs, I propel myself up. Apparently a little too much because I practically flew straight over the fence.

I hit the ground roughly on the other side and roll. My whole body jarred and the sand felt like little needles. At least it was kinda cushy and soft or I probably would have broken something. But still, a couple seconds to catch my breath wouldn't hurt.

Laying there, I stare at the sky. The stars do really look beautiful. I can see the Fisherman constellation that Father would always point out when we'd lay out on his boat. Oh, how I've missed seeing the stars for the past month.

I just lay there until I'm awaken from half-asleep-half-awake state by yelling from the distant dock. Usually you can't hear them but I guess it's a combination of low tide, a really quiet night, and them being partially loud. There's something that sounds like a harpoon gun. It must be the people from earlier.

Now I'm scared. They're talk of being blamed by the Capital sounds rebellious. Something bad is probably happening to them. I'm defiantly not interested in finding out especially after I hear the women scream. So I grab my sack and quickly start to make my way to my cave. Pulling the dune grass to the side, I slide in.

It's a little bit of a drop but after tumbling over a fence, it feels like nothing. I put my sack in the corner with some other stuff I've brought her after I discovered it. There's a blanket that I can curl up in the night. Mother doesn't usually come and check on me until well past high tide which will be well past sunrise today.

It's a little chilly in the cave, but the sound of waves is soothing; they almost drown out the noise from the dock. Every time I'm close to falling asleep the wind rustles something, and I jerk awake. I'm afraid of what is happening on the dock.

* * *

BOOM!

The whole world sounds like it's exploding around me, and I jerk awake out of my light sleep. I can't even make sense of what is happening. The salty smell of the ocean is gone, and all I can smell is smoke.

I just sit there, frozen, holding my blanket across my chest. My nails are digging into my palm through the thin fabric.

"Mother!" I scream. "Father! Brother! Sister!"

I'm shaking with fear. Is this the grand finale Mother was talking about. Is this what that group was waiting for? Is the Capital doing this or is it District 13? Oh goodness, I was so stupid leaving the cellar. What would Father do?

And then I realize I'm being stupid now. Father always has a plan for anything. I have to do something. What do I know? What am I forgetting from yesterday? What even is exactly happening?

Crawling forward, I pull aside the dune grasses. Smoke billows out at me, and coughing, I stumble back. The taste coats my mouth, and I spit hoping to get it out of my mouth. I guess it helps a little, but the burning sensation is still there. Bleh.

So, it's very very smokey outside. Something must be burning. The only thing I can think of burning is the bakery, but that's so far from the ocean. Our houses are made of a combination of brick and compacted sand which, according to school, doesn't easily burn. The only thing made of wood around is the dock. And all the noises from the dock last night.

Someone must have set the dock on fire.

* * *

**Remember to review! I'm open to accepting any ideas for tributes. She mentor's for a lot of Hunger Games; I do have some ideas, but not THAT many.**


	3. Dark Days: Chapter 2

**Thanks to my 3 reviewers ( fanficfollower, afterl0ve, Comet Punch) for your support.**

* * *

**P****art 1: Dark Days**

I run across the beach as fast as I can. I can feel the strong breeze of the ocean, and I know it's probably high tide or just past. Hopefully, it'll blow some of the smoke off the beach. There is so much everywhere. I can barely breath, let alone see.

I trip a couple times over the uneven dunes. Every time I fall, I get sand in my grazed knees. It stings a little, but I have to get to the dock. Even from my cave, it always seems to be on the horizon. It's really the one thing that brings the whole neighborhood together. It's close to high tide, and that's the busiest time of the day. Practically the whole neighborhood will be there either unloading, loading, helping the ships dock, or preparing to set sail. More importantly, I know part of my family will be there because Mother said Father and Brother were shipping out today for a long trip. There would be so many people there just to see the ship off. At least one member from every family works there.

It must be chaos with everything on fire. I doubt I'll be of any help, but I just have to see.

When I round the top of the next dune, I skid to a stop. The air's a lot clearer now from the wind, and I can see the dock. There's a plume of black smoke coming from the shore side. I can see the silhouettes of the dock workers. But it seems like they're two groups facing off. It doesn't look even remotely like a normal work atmosphere.

And then I hear what I didn't hear before over the sound of my labored breathing - loud banging and explosions. It's take me a while to place the sounds exactly: gunshots and screams. I've only heard a gunshot once in my life – at a public execution for this family that tried to run away. But I wouldn't forget that sound. And that sound was multiplied tenfold. And it was definitely coming from the dock.

It clearly wasn't a simple dock fire. Those men and women from last night must have something to do with it. They made it sound like help was arriving, but who ever they were fighting clearly wasn't help.

Could Brother and Father be caught up in this? I know they weren't in the group from last night, but they easily could have gotten to the dock in the time I was sleeping in my cave. I wouldn't even know which group they'd be in.

They just couldn't be down there. They could get shot, and I don't know what I would do then. I needed to get closer to see, but the next tall dune was definitely too close to the dock. I didn't know what to do.

Screams were coming from both groups, but one was obviously winning whatever was happening. I could see one group, whoever they were, being pushed back towards the fire that was quickly spreading. I was rooted atop the dune; I didn't want to watch them burn or be shot, but I couldn't seem to take my eyes away.

And then a strong gust of wind knocks me off my feet. I tumble down the hill, getting more abrasion from the sand and getting considerably dizzy. My eyes are watering from the sand and smoke, and I rub them as I scramble to my feet. I hit the ground just as quickly as I got up with my world still spinning.

As I lay there heaving on the sand, I could see hovercrafts flying by. More sand is flung in my face as another hovercraft flies by. That's what must have knocked me over. I'd never actually seen a hovercraft, but that's what they had to be. What other vehicle seemingly floats above the ground?

All of a sudden, they all disappeared. Where did they go? I don't think I hit my head _that _hard. Frantically I looked around for them. Could they belong to District 13? I knew the Capital had some and District 4 had none, but maybe other districts did. We had boats and no one else did. Where they here to help us? My eyes sung across the beach and into the sky, and then I saw them.

They were practically invisible from my position in the sand. They must have been reflective or something cause they were shimmery and seemed to shift in and out of view.

Groaning, I flip myself over in the sand so I can see the dock, or what remains of the dock. The men on the ocean side are disappearing into the hovercrafts. The two sides are still exchanging fire, and I can see men fall on both sides. I don't know why they were taking men. I really had no clue what was going on.

This was no hide-and-go-seek. How did I ever believe that lie? Why had Mother and Father lied to me anyway? I could handle this; I was handling this. I could of done something to help. Or I'd at least know what side I was rooting for. I could know for sure that my family was safe.

But then I knew what side I was rooting for. All the men on the ocean side were gone and a cheer had gone up among the survivors. A cheer that I recognized from my Father and his crew mates when he'd take me out on his boat. A cheer that meant the school of fish was is sight, and it'd be easy sailing from then on. It meant victory.

I was ready to let out a cheer too when I saw something shimmering in the sky. The hovercrafts. They hadn't flown away, and they were still there. And the entire sky was full of them. There must be close to fifty. And if they had been carrying the enemy, they couldn't be sticking around to do anything good. It had to be worse than shooting people, whatever it was that they could do.

I had to warn them! I scrambled to my feet and took off running down the beach.

"Hovercrafts!" I shouted, waving my arms frantically so I'd be noticed. "In the sky! Hovercrafts!"

But I'm too tiny and too far away for them to see me, let alone hear me. And I'm too late anyway. I see something fall from one of the hovercrafts, and then literally, my whole world explodes.

In that split second I'm flying backwards through the air, I realize something a lot worse than guns. Bombs.

I'm thrown back into the dune I had just fell from with such force that my world world turns black for a couple seconds. It's not black for long because I can still see bombs falling when my vision returns.

There's fire everywhere in front of me. On the horizon past the dock, I see the large metal processing center in the distance. Black smoke is pouring from it, and it seems to be leaning towards the ocean. Some one is bent on destroying my home.

I try to push myself up, but my head starts spinning so I just stay siting. I can't watch, but even when I close my eyes, all I see is red.

Then I feel the wind pick up as it blows my hair. The dock doesn't even seem to be there anymore – it's just flames-, and I can see sparks fly. And I can't stop the scream that erupts from my throat. My small neighborhood near the docks is on fire. When the bombs hit the dock they also must have hit the houses because it's just a blazing inferno. If my family wasn't blown up at the dock, I doubt they made it out of the firestorm. The people must be screaming in the neighborhood, but all I can hear is my screams and the sounds of the fire devouring everything I love.

My body is numb with fear. My family can't be gone. I could just have easily been blown up too. Mother must have though our cellar could withstand the bombing, but I don't see how anything could withstand to that. I can't seem to cry through; I just scream more.

Something flaming hit the sand near my head. Screaming with fear instead of sadness, I role over as sparks fly. I'm sure they just missed my hair. Then more pieces of what I could only assume was the dock were falling around me.

I tried to scramble back towards my cave, toward the place where reality didn't exist for me. But then I felt something knock my body back into the sand. There was no pain as I lay there. But as soon as I tried moved, a horrible pain shoot up my leg.

Slowly I turned my head, and I just saw blood everywhere. I quickly turned back, I didn't want to look. I closed my eyes, but I could still feel everything: my grazed knees, sand abrasions, the small scorch marks, and mostly the horrible gash in my leg.

I just wanted to black out and forget everything, but I didn't. I could cry now; tears for myself and my family were streaming down my face. I felt like I had lost everything. And now I was going to loose my life. I didn't want to die, but it was too tiring to fight the rising blackness, so I just stopped. I'd be with my family soon enough.

* * *

"I don't think there's anyone on the beach," said a female voice. "The bombs came too fast for anyone to get away."

"Enrique said we're supposed to look," said another female voice that sounded older.

"I don't want to go back to the hospital," said a very young voice. "All those burns. And even worse, the whole neighborhood that didn't make it."

Their voices pulled me out of whatever foggy half-dead state I was it. I tried to call out, but my throat was so parched that it came out as a cough. I just wanted someone to help me with my pain.

The bombs had come too fast, but I was already on the beach. They needed to find me. I coughed again.

"I hear something," said the young one.

'Yes, I'm over here,' I wanted to shout. Instead, I settled for a groan and another sputtering cough. I felt some shards of wood around me move as my chest heaved up and down spatially.

"I definitely hear something over there. Oh god, you don't think there's anyone under all that wreckage."

"Just hurry up and check so we can go back," says the first one to speak.

I hear their footsteps getting closer to me. I try to pick my head up to make sure they're coming, but I can't. There's a horrible throbbing in my head that matches the pounding in my leg. I let out a little whimper. 'Please find me soon,' I think.

"Look!" shouts the young one. Her voice is so loud I feel like my head is going to explode.

I hear more movement and then I feel something being lifted off of me. And then I start to feel the horrible pain. The boards must have stopped my blood flow because I can feel everything again.

"Oh," says the oldest one, "give me the bandages. We need to stop the bleeding before we try to move her. It's a good thing we got here."

All of a sudden, my leg is on fire. I let out a blood-curling scream as I thrash about. Why would they save me only to burn me to death. "Let me go! Mother!" Then I remember the fire, and I scream again.

"Hold her down," says one of the woman. "I need to clean this wound."

I feel two hands on my shoulders and two more on my ankles. I'm pressed against the sand, and I soon stop struggling. I'm tired of fighting. So tired. I had already fought and woken up but apparently not won. I guess I wasn't supposed to win.

So I let the ladies do what they needed to kill me, and let myself go back into the darkness where nothing hurts.

* * *

The smell. That's the first thing I notice when I wake up. It smells like smoke and blood. The air around me is dark, and I can hear people groan around me. At least I know I'm not dead, and the ladies weren't trying to kill me.

I slowly pick up my head. The room doesn't spin when I move which I guess is a sign of improvement. I have no clue where I am, and I'm a little shaky on what happened.

As my eyes adjust to the lighting, I see a young girl next to me who's probably only a couple years older. And the whole right side of her body, the side that's facing me, is a giant red blister.

Then everything comes back to me. The men and woman. The cave and the smoke. The fire. The gunshots. The hovercrafts. The bombs. My family.

I bolt straight up in my bed and scream. My family is dead. I am the only living member of my family. I'm alone. And I keep screaming until some lady comes beside me and taps something that seems to be in my arm.

And then the world slowly fades to black again, and the last thing I feel is my head hitting the sheets. And they aren't very soft sheets.

* * *

I think I shift in and out of being alive and unconscious. At least when I'm unconscious I don't remember everything that happened. Every time I wake up, all I can do is scream. Scream at all the horrible things that I saw and could only watch. And every time, some lady comes to put me back in the darkness again.

* * *

I'm coming alive again, and I can hear a lot of movement around me. There's never been much movement, but I'm usually unconscious so I guess I wouldn't really know anyway.

Maybe the movement is a good thing because I know my family is dead. My mother is dead. My father is dead. My brother and sister are dead. But things are still moving. The girl on my right is gone, but the tiny girl on my left is still there. I'm not alone, at least not completely.

So I slowly sit up. The world around me is fuzzy, but I can still see a clean white bandage around my leg and a couple smaller ones wrapped around my arms.

The girl beside me is looking around too. She has a cast on her arm and bandage around her head. I try to speak to her, but my throat is parched and raw from all my screaming.

I close my eyes. My family is dead. But I'm still alive. I'm going to be okay. People are moving on. I open my eyes.

I see the girl motioning to the small table beside my bed. There's a mug of water, and I quickly chug the entire thing. It feels so good on my sore throat.

"What's happening?" I ask the girl.

"I'm not sure," she says. "You were one of the last they brought in here. There's only been about three others this whole week. The most movement there's been is when they need to take someone out or you'd wake up screaming, and they'd have to sedate you."

I close my eyes again. I don't need to scream. It's been a whole week. My family has been dead for a weak. I open my eyes, and I see the girl looking at me.

"I'm Cira by the way," she tells me. "I was in the processing center when the bombs hit. Only a couple of us on the bottom floors got out before it collapsed. Got this cool bandage cause a metal beam knocked me down."

I see she's expecting me to say something, but I don't know what.

"My family is dead," I tell her.

She just looks at me, and I feel like I just said the wrong things. I don't know how to break the silence, and the only thing I can think of doing is screaming. But no, I will not scream anymore.

"My family is dead too," she tells me. "Papa and Mama were on the dock, and Gil and I were working in the processing plant. I just swept the first floor, but Gil worked on the top floors with the machinery. The nurses said anyone above floor one was as good as dead."

"My brother was shot," I tell Cira. And I soon as I say it, I know that's what happened. All those screams of people at night – they were being killed, and I was oblivious. "My father was on the dock, and my sister and mother were in the neighborhood that got bombed."

"Where were you?" she asked.

"On the beach. I saw them fighting on the dock. I saw the hovercrafts fly in and I though we had won, but then they started dropping bombs. And I think I was hit by parts of the dock after it blew up."

There's a silence. I think both of us were thinking about what happened. Neither of us had anything left. My home was gone and hers probably was too.

"Mags," I say, and she just gives me a blank look. "My name is Mags."

She smiles a little, and I think I've made a friend. I smile back at her, and she giggles a little.

And just as I begin to feel a little happy, men in white suits approach me and Cira. I can see other men in white suits around the room, and they seem to be getting people out of their beds and marching them out. They look so serious, and the guns they have hanging on their backs scare me. I don't want to end up like Brother.

I close my eyes. Don't scream. Don't scream. My family is dead, but I'm alive. I open my eyes.

The white men aren't smiling when they see us. "Names," they demand of us.

"Cira Roberts," she tells them.

They then look at me, and I realize they're expecting me to talk. I stutter a little before I settle with my full name. "Magdalena Cyrus."

The smaller white suited man writes this down. He nods when he finishes, and it must be a cue because we're then asked about our families.

"Mine's all dead," I tell them right away. "Mine too," Cira adds.

I can see the larger white man role his eyes. "Put them in the community home down in the second village. They can work on the docks there."

Then he turns and walks away. I look at Cira as she looks at me, and we both watch the white larger white men walk away. The smaller one motions for us to follow. I still have a tube in my arm, and Cira looks a little confused.

He shakes his head and marches over to my bed, pulling me off. I stumble to my feet, and my whole right leg is on fire.

"She's barley been conscience this entire week," calls out an older nurse who walks towards me and Cira. "You can't just take her."

This obviously doesn't go well with the large white man because he turns around slowly. "I'm Commander Ryback, the new head Peacekeeper of District 4, and I can damn well do whatever I please, district scum." Then he strikes the nurse so hard that she falls back on the ground. I hear her head in the solid pavement, and she doesn't move.

I swallow hard and pull the thing out of my arm. A couple drops of blood form where I removed it, but the sight doesn't really bug me. Cira climbs out of her bed and moves to my right side.

"Lean on me," she whispers to me. "Your leg looks really painful."

I'm a good couple inches taller then her, but I lean on her all the same. We walk after the white men. It's actually more of a hobble because putting any weight on my right leg sends a blast of pain up.

Most of the beds in here are empty, I observe as we cross the entire building to the door. The people still here look like they're in bad shape. Most look like they have bad burns, but a couple must have gunshot wounds because they only have a bandage that is soaked in dried blood. Despite Cira's attitude earlier, she looks a little sick at the sight of all of this. I end up holding her up for the most part.

There are no other kids in here either. The youngest I see looks to be around fourteen, and he's obviously one of the gunshot victims. I don't know if we're the only kids or if they'd all been taken away.

When we step outside, both Cira and I stop. It's a lot brighter out here than in the make-shift hospital, but that's not it. We're outside the old warehouse that was just on the edge of town. Now we're on the edge of nothing.

The town is nothing but smoldering ruins. There's a large pile of ashes and charred wood and metal where the processing center used to be, and I can see Cira looking at it. That's where her brother was buried, and she could have been buried just as easily. There isn't even anything substantial left of the town. I can see a couple brick chimneys standing against the horizon, but there isn't much.

The white men have a smile on their faces as they look at the destruction. It's sick.

"My family is dead," I tell the men. "Cira's entire family is dead. I'm sure my neighbors are all probably dead too."

The smaller man looses his smile, but the stupid big one just glares at me. "Your lives are worthless anyway. What are a thousand district deaths when Panem is saved and the Capital prospers?"

And now I want to scream at him. But I don't because I said I wouldn't scream anymore, and I wasn't going to break my promise to myself. "No ones lives are worth more than anyone else. My family is just as important as the stupid Capital," I told him.

"That's where you are wrong," says the smaller man. "You life and the ones you love are worth more than anyone else. You just had less to protect yours with. I'm sorry you had to lose your family, but I didn't want to lose mine."

He gives me a small smile, and I feel like I won't forgot those words. In the the future, I'll always make sure I can protect myself and the ones I live.

* * *

**Hope you liked it! Any praise or feedback is much appreciated as every writer LOVES reviews.**


	4. Dark Days: Chapter 3

**Here's our next installment of Mags' tale. A special thanks to everyone who favorite and followed and _loopid_ for reviewing.**

**Also, I might be changing the title. So don't be surprised if it's called something else next time you're looking for it.**

* * *

**Part 1: Dark Days**

Me and Cira are led to the train station that is just behind the warehouse. It must have been spared the bombing because there is train on the tracks, and it looks like it'll run. There is another white man standing on the platform, and he's standing so rigid I can't help but wonder if he's frozen.

"Commander Ryback and Private Pallow with two young girls for the community home in village two," our tall white man shouts out.

He pushes us forward onto the platform. I glare at him as I stumble forward a little. My leg feels like its on fire, and I have to take a couple deep breaths before I can even think. Readying myself for the pain, I walk up the rest of my steps. Cira is hunched over and she's no where near the confident girl she was in the hospital. I want to comfort her, but the stares of our white men keep pushing me towards the frozen one.

"Name," he asks rigidly.

"Magdalena Cyrus," I tell him. "My family's dead."

He doesn't show any sign that he's heard me, but he grabs my arms that's hanging at my side. I try to yank it back, but he has a really tight grip. He's so much stronger than I am. He stabs my finger with some little metal device and then pushes me forward. There's a small droplet of blood on my finger, and I put it in my mouth.

Cira stumbles beside me and does the exact same thing. I give her a weak smile, and she gives me one back with her finger still in her mouth. I want to bring the happy girl back out, but I don't know how.

"Commander Ryback and Private Pallow," says the frozen white man. "You may continue your search in village one. I will transport children 002 and 003 to village two." He then salutes our white men and turns very stiffly towards us.

I see our larger white man, I guess Commander Ryback, roll his eyes. And I wish I didn't because it makes him seem human when I was previously just fine with seeing him as a monster. I wanted to roll my eyes at this super stiff guy too.

I turn away, disgusted with myself at having something in common with the white man. Cira looks worried, and I don't know what to say to her that I could explain the look that came over my face. At least I'm not really given an opportunity to talk as the frozen white man pushes us onto the train.

I bit my lip as I nearly fall over the large step. All my weight is on my bad leg for too long, and my vision goes spotty for a couple seconds, and I can taste blood in my mouth. But then I'm in the train, and I can put weight on my other leg and some of the pain goes away.

It's just an old cargo train, and I can see piles of empty crates stacked around. What really freaks me out is there are cots against the wall, and it looks like there are blood stains on them.

I want to scream when I see the blood. But instead, I just stare at it. My whole body is stuck in place until the slamming of the train door breaks my concentration.

The frozen man also seems to unfreeze as the train door closes; his posture loosens, and he runs his fingers through his longish brown hair. He sighs and closes his eyes before looking around the train car.

"Marco," he calls out in a surprisingly pleasant voice. "Meet Cira and Magdalena. They're the only other children that were found. They're going to village two with you."

I stop breathing for a second. Me, Cira, and this Marco were the only children found alive in my entire village. I didn't have many really close friends but I still knew all the neighborhood kids. I can't believe all the kids I might've gone to school with are dead. I drop to the ground and just sit there. Gone, all of them.

The white man picks me up and puts me on one of the cots – one that isn't bloodstained, I think and secretly thank him for. Cira climbs next to me and wraps her good arm around me. I'm sure she had friends that are dead too. Then a boy with curly black hair crawls out from behind some of the boxes and sits beside us. He's bigger than both me and Cira, and I'm sure he's older too.

"Get comfortable," the white man tells the three of us. "It shouldn't take more than a couple hours to get to village two. If we run into any delays, I'll bring you guys something to snack on."

I narrowed my eyes at the white man. He was too nice.

Marco apparently thinks so too. "Delays?" he asks none too innocently. "You mean like maybe the bombs hit the tracks instead of my home! Or maybe there are dead bodies just laying there! There's no one to bury them, so maybe you'll just run them over!"

"Marco," consoles the white man. He doesn't even seem to be phased by Marco's words, but I'm fired up now; his apparent apathy towards my family and his kindness makes me angry.

"Yeah," I shouted at him. " Do you think your snacks are going to make us like you? Your people killed my entire family and Cira's family! " I briefly think about what the other white man had said. "I don't care if you were protecting your family! I'm sure you didn't have to destroy mine to do so!"

I see Marco smile at me out of the corner of his eye, but I keep staring at the white man. His eyes grow cold and whatever cheerful disguise he put on earlier is now gone. I see his fists clench, and I slowly push Cira behind me and Marco.

"It's you stupid Districts that aren't happy with your position in life. Some one once said some men are born to be leaders and some are born to be slaves. But you guys had to want more and rebel. You don't think I've lost anyone. Some of my closest friends are dead. And more would be dead if we didn't take drastic measures. Be lucky you're alive with somewhere to go even though you don't deserve it."

With that, he turns away and leaves the three of us alone in the train car. Cira starts crying, and I wonder once again what happened to the bubbly girl I meet earlier in the hospital. I hold her close to me, and I wonder if her older brother ever held her like this.

"Sisters?" asks Marco. I still see the fire in his eyes, but it's burned down a little. I'm sure mine look like that too. I don't know what possessed me, but I liked it.

I look at Cira who is still crying into my chest. We both have dirty blonde hair, but that's where our similarities end. "No," I tell him, "I just meet her this morning." I get a confused look, so I elaborate. "We were both found in bad shape after the bombing and put in the field hospital. I was, " I trail off. How do you tell someone you've just meet you had to be sedated because you couldn't stop screaming? "delusional," I settle with. "We had hospital beds next to each other. I woke up this morning and the white men came and brought us here."

I close my eyes to stop myself from screaming. I feel Marco put his hand on my shoulder, and I open my eyes – and I'm looking directly into Marco's brown ones.

He looks so confident while I feel so broken. He can't be over ten, but I feel like both of us have aged twenty years. He has the fire in his eyes, but there's also sadness. There are bags under his eyes, but he has no injuries that I can see besides a couple harmless scratches. I find myself wanting to know his story.

"How did you survive?"

"I was down on the beach," he says. I think he's going to say more, but he doesn't. Cira stops crying for a second and looks at him with her wide eyes.

"You're one of the beach kids," she tells him, and he nods.

A beach kid? "Wait, what?" I asked, feeling slightly confused.

"My parents died in a boating accident a couple years ago," Marco explains. "I live in the caves by the processing center with a couple of other kids who avoided the community home."

"But what about the others?"

Marco closes his eyes and doesn't say anything for a while. I get the feeling he's willing himself not to cry – like I do to stop myself from screaming. But then he finally opens his eyes and speaks:

"They were under the dock fishing when the fire started. I had agreed to watch our supplies for the day because sometimes people came but mostly it was annoying seagulls. I was deep in the cave when the fire started. It was only when the bombs hit did I realize something was wrong. I stayed with our stuff until the ground stopped shaking. When I finally crawled out, everything was destroyed. I couldn't believe it. The processing center was just a pile of metal and ashes.

"I was too afraid to leave the beach, and I was able to live off our supplies. Eventually I had to leave the cave to fish, and that's when the Peacekeepers caught me."

"I'm sorry," whispers Cira, and she starts crying again.

"Don't be," says Marco. "I'm used to losing people, and it wasn't your fault anyway. It's the Capital. They're the ones bombing us."

I put my hand over his resting on my shoulder. "Do you know anything about what's happening?" I ask him. I'm starting to piece together the story, but I need to know more.

He says he'll tell me, but he wants to know what I know first. Cira stops crying and looks up at me expectantly. Even she wants to know.

So I tell him about the Capital using jabberjays and tracker jackers – what I overheard from … just what I overheard. I tell him about people being shot in the streets and the group of men and the woman carrying guns late at night. I tell him that they were relying on help from District 13, but the help must not have come. I tell him how I saw the fighting on the dock and the hovercrafts bombs everything.

And when I stop, Cira seems to have pulled herself back together and is resembling the girl I meet in the hospital. She mutters something, but it's absorbed by my shirt.

"What?" asks Marco. "We didn't hear you."

"There were other districts rebelling too," she tells us. "Sometimes men would come to my house, and they'd talk about all the districts. I think they were worried about 1 and 2 but apparently they eventually joined the rest of the districts."

There's a silence for a while between us until Marco speaks up.

"I don't know much more than you ladies. I spent most of my time beneath the docks, so I would hear the men of the district talk. I think they were trying to feed wrong information to the jabberjays."

"What's a jabberjay?" asks Cira. I'm kinda glad she asked because I've been throwing the word around, but I'm not exactly sure. "The word's funny," and she giggles a little.

I smile a little, but Marco doesn't. "They're genetically engineered birds that can repeat entire conversations. They're like tiny spies."

"That's horrible," says Cira

We lapse back into silence again. It's not uncomfortable, but I think we're all thinking about what Cira said. This whole thing is horrible. We were forced to grow up so quickly; I don't feel like a little girl. I see Marco close his eyes and clench his fists. I close my eyes too and rest my head on his arm.

And I think all of us fall asleep like that, wrapped around each other for support. Because we need to know there's still people out there and not everything is horrible. We all need each other because there's no one left for us.

* * *

_There's nothing around me. It's all black but there's a strange glow coming from no where in particular. It's gives my skin a reddish orange tint that freaks me out._

_ "Hello," I call out. I don't want to be alone in this darkness. It seems so absolute like death. _

_ "Magdalena," I hear a voice call out for me. Then there's another, and they're all calling my name. Soon all I can hear is my name being repeated over and over again. _

_ "What?" I call out frustrated. "What do you want?"_

_ "Our lives back," says the voices. I stumble a little. I'm hearing dead people._

_ Then I can suddenly see. And everywhere around me are mutilated bodies. Oh god! I see my neighbor walking towards me as blood drips from her empty eye sockets . I stumble back into one of my father's crew mates; his hair is coated in blood and as he smiles, rotten teeth fall from his mouth._

_ I hurriedly look around to find a way out. Then I see my brother walking towards me. There's a bloody, oozing hole in the middle of his chest, and I can see maggots crawling from his eyes and mouth. I just want to scream, but I can't seem to._

_ "Why didn't you realize what was happening Mags," he asks me as bug pour from his mouth. "How did you think everything was okay?"_

_ I back away from him as Mother comes up beside him. Her flesh is a bubbling red mess, and I barely recognize her. _

_ "Why couldn't you save us?" she asks._

_ "There was nothing I could do," I scream at her. "They were bombing everything!"_

_ Then Sister appear besides the two of them. Her entire body is on fire, and her skin is black and peeling. But the most noticeable thing is the two large butchers knives she has in her hands. Oh god, they're coated in blood that's dripping everywhere. _

_ "You could join us now," she says and lunges towards me._

_ I fall back and scream._

And suddenly I'm awake. My heart is pounding, and I can't seem to catch my breath. I'm not surrounded by the dead bodies of everyone in my neighborhood; I'm in a train car surrounded my Marco and Cira. I take a couple deep breathes. The three of us are alive.

I take a couple deep breaths and ease back against the wall. Cira's twitching in her sleep, but her face looks calm, and I doubt she's having a nightmare. Marco looks a little tense, but I'm nervous to wake him. I just hold Cira closer to my chest and press myself against Marco.

I wait for my heart to slow down before I close my eyes and try to fall back asleep. I'm alive and not alone. My family's dead, but I'm not alone. I will keep on living, and I will be strong.

And eventually I fall into a dreamless sleep with to the rhythm of the train rocking my body slowly.

* * *

I'm jolted awake again but not by my own nightmares. Subconsciously, I brace myself against the floor to keep from falling forward. My leg hates the action, but it doesn't hurt nearly as bad as yesterday.

Marco's completely standing and looking around nervously. I wonder if he had a nightmare too because he looks so alert, and I bet his heart is racing too.

Cira's still against my chest, and the jolting didn't seem to bug her. She stretches, yawns, and I get a wonderful whiff of her morning breath.

I gently nudge Cira off me and go over to Marco. He now up on some of the crates and looking through the window.

"It looks like we've stopped," he says. I mean, I already assumed that, and I'm about to tell him when he keeps talking. "We're still in District 4 because I see some seagulls, and it looks like there's sand all over the place. I can't see any water, but I bet it's there. There must not have been an delays cause it looks like its early evening."

"What?" I asked Marco. "It's only early evening? Did we sleep through the whole day?"

"I guess we must have," he says, still looking out the window. "You two are both recovering from injuries, and I haven't slept much the last week since the bombing."

"Nightmares?"

He looks down at me, and I can see the bags under his eyes; I'm sure I have them too.

"I just see their faces," he says, and I understand what he means. "They blame me for staying in the cave. It's my fault they died."

I look at where he's standing, and I pull myself up the crates to stand beside him. My leg's definitely a lot better, and I can easily blot out the pain.

"It's not your fault," I tell him, putting my arms around his shoulders. I'm trying to convince myself just as much as I'm trying to convince him. "There was nothing you could do. I saw the bombs fall and everything happened too fast to even react to."

"But I could be with them! We could all still be together!"

"Don't you think I want to be with my family too? Don't you think Cira wants to be with hers?"

He obviously struggling to think of a reply to that, so I continue.

"As long as you're alive, your friends are alive too. People are alive in two senses; they're alive in their flesh and alive in people's memories."

I feel like a giant jerk saying it because only a couple days ago I was screaming because I couldn't face the fact that my family was dead. But I do feel better now that I've accepted it; well, I still feel dreadful, but I've stopped screaming, for now, and I'm moving on, at least slowly.

I can feel him relax against me. But just then, I can hear the train door slid open and he goes rigid again.

"Time to get going," calls our Peacekeeper.

Marco jumps down from the crates and gives me a hand to get down. I flash him a smile in thanks because my leg's better, but the weight of the jump would have hurt a lot. Cira gets up slowly and follows us.

We step out of the train, and it looks like our village never got burned down. The houses are eerily familiar and the streets are laid out the same way. I can see the processing center and the dock that looks exactly like our dock – like our dock did. This sick copy makes me furious for no other reason than it's just a copy.

"What is this?" I hiss at the Peacekeeper. "Some twisted replica of our homes. This isn't our home and nothing will ever make it be."

The Peacekeeper shoves a roll into my hand. "Well Miss Magdalena, this is your home now. I suggest you get used to it."

I shake my head. This will never be my home. It might look like it, but this wasn't where all my memories happened.

Marco grabs his rolls and angrily takes a bit out of it. I can see the fiery look in his eyes, and I know this will never be his home either. However, it looks like life is returning to Cira. She grabs her roll and skips over to us.

"Why are you so angry? This looks like home. I can see me and Gil playing in the sand. I can see him carrying me home from work when I was too tired. If I can see home, why do you think it's so terrible?"

I'm about to take a bite, and I pause. Cira does have a point. But no. No, this can never even come close to replacing my home. Maybe I can live here, but I can't love it here. Not like I did.

And I see Marco's come to the same conclusion as I have; I see the two of us are very alike. "Me and Mags will try, little girl. But we remember so much more. And more vividly," he tells her, going in between us and putting his arms over our shoulders.

"Then we'll make new memories," says Cira, and I admire her optimism that I just don't have. "All three of us will be a family."

I feel Marco wince, and I wonder if at one time he had a younger sister. I was close to my older siblings, but they were never my playmates. And I would make new memories, but I would make sure never to lose my old ones. Never.

A new Peacekeeper marches up to ours, and they salute each other. "I am Private Boyles here to escort your captured rebels to the community home. Are these Children 001, 002, and 003?"

And I grin at that. Me, Cira, and Marco are rebels? I'm positive my family was rebels, but I definitely wasn't. Maybe if I was older. But then I'd be dead. But my family sacrificed themselves to be rebels, so maybe I want to be a rebel. Any connection to my family feels good.

I miss the exchange between Peacekeepers and soon we're being marched through the city. We get some pitied looks but anyone who's talking shuts up pretty quickly when the Peacekeeper comes by.

I see Cira's about to break down when we spot an older boy carrying his younger sister down the street. I nudge Marco, and he holds Cira's hand. And then, unexpectedly, he grabs mine too. And I don't mine the comfort, so I let him.

I can see some signs of fighting. There are scorch marks on some buildings, and I can see some of the men have bandages wrapped around legs and arms. I look at my own leg, and I realize it's not really hurting – or it's gone numb- and I can take my bandage off soon.

All of a sudden, a girl runs up to us. "Jeremiah! Jeremiah!" she cries. She wraps her arms around Marco who's frozen in his place. "I knew you weren't dead." And she starts crying in his chest.

He has no clue what to say and neither do I. Cira does however. "This is Marco, not Jeremiah! Your brother is dead. But so is mine, so we can be friends."

The girl looks shocked to say the least. She pulls herself away from Marco who looks like he's about to pass out. I'm now positive he had a younger sister at some point.

I swear she about to hug Cira, but then the Peacekeeper comes out of nowhere. I see his huge fist swing down, and I know he's about to knock the little girl over. Not even thinking, I leap in front of the little girl.

My leg might be fine for walking, but I can feel the scar stretch, and I'm sure I just reopened it. Then I feel his fist connect with my face and the pain in my leg seems irrelevant. I hit the ground hard but not hard enough to knock me out. I can hear a couple people screaming , and it sounds like the little girl is crying.

I get a couple short, choppy breaths in, and then I can taste blood in my mouth. Slowly I raise my hand to my face; when I pull it away, it's covered in blood. And I can't help myself, I scream.

The blood runs down my arm, and it consumes my whole arm. Soon it's seeping into the street, and it's everywhere. And I keep screaming.

I'm still screaming when the Peacekeeper hauls me to my feet. He smacks me again, and there's more blood. It stains his white uniform, and I keep screaming. He pushes me back on the ground, and I keep screaming.

People seem to be gathering around us to see what's happening. And I feel their stares on me, and I try to slow my heartbeat. But all I can see is blood; it's on the street, on me, on the Peacekeeper. It's everywhere.

Then I see Marco's deep brown eyes. They're brown, and he's not covered in blood. I close my eyes and stop screaming.

"Delusional?" he asks me, smiling, and I remember what I told him earlier.

"And a little crazy," I whisper back. And we both laugh a little. Then his face gets serious, and I immediately stop my laughing.

"You need to get up," he whispers to me. And very slowly, he helps me to my feet.

And that's when I really notice all the people staring. I'm sure I look like a mess with blood dripping down my face and the tears mixing in. I said I'd be strong, but I wasn't. I just want to lay in the street so no one will ever look at me again.

I can see anger in the Peacekeeper's eyes, and Cira is literally shaking in the street. I'm suddenly afraid for my life.

Then I hear screaming in the crowd:

"Maria, he'll whip you!"

"Alvin's already dead. They can't hurt me anymore."

And an older lady with her hair pulled back into a ponytail pushed herself through the crowd and next to me, Marco, and Cira. The crowd had grown significantly, and they all stood there in hushed silence as they waited to see what would happen.

And for a brief second it looked like the Peacekeeper was scared. He was surrounded by people, who until just a week ago, had been at war against him. And then he's arrogant and cocky again. "I'm escorting these rebel children to the community home. Unless you'd like to be put before a firing squad, I'd suggest you move out of my way and let me continue."

I think of the execution I was forced to watch, and I want to be this lady some day; strong enough to defy someone doing the wrong thing.

"I am Nurse Lopez, and these children need medical attention. The younger girl needs to have her bandages changed, and it looks like you just broke the older girl's nose. She's no more than nine! How could you?"

And I totally want to be this lady when I'm old. The Peacekeeper's obviously confused and doesn't know what to do. In those brief couple of seconds, the lady herds the three of us away. The crowd seems to part for us, and I can feel the pitied looks from the parents who have wrapped their arms protectively around their children. I'm sure if I told Mother last week that I'd be in a different village with blood on my face, she'd wrap me up in her arms and ask where I got such a crazy idea from.

Nurse-lady takes us down streets that look eerily familiar, and I start to get lightheaded. Whatever energy I had earlier seems to be draining out of me, and I can feel everything. My leg is aching, and my face seems to have its own heartbeat. I can feel the blood on my face – but I don't have the urge to scream anymore. Either I'm too tired or maybe I found that extra strength I had hidden somewhere.

Marco put his arms around me, and I once again find myself looking in his brown eyes. I stumble a bit over the loose rocks in the street, but Marco catches me.

The world's fuzzy for a couple minutes as I stumble through the streets, and Marco half carries me. After a while, I feel the nurse-lady pick me up, and I finally pass out from exhaustion.

* * *

I wake up in hospital again, but I don't have the urge to scream. The walls are white, and the room smells clean. There's a new bandage on my leg, and my face feels a lot better. There's still a dull throbbing, but I can ignore it if necessary.

"Oh darling," says the nurse-lady as she approaches me, "you had me awfully scared when you passed out yesterday. I though we might lose you but turns out all you needed was some rest."

She asks me about my family as she starts changing my bandages. I tell her they're dead, but I also tell her about the fighting and the bombing.

"Honey," she tells me, now sitting beside me on the soft bed, "your town wasn't the only place that got bombed. Only a couple days ago they forced everyone into the town square where they got these big televisions set up. They showed your village, and the whole square was quiet. I mean, we were fighting for better lives and look what happened. Destroyed anyone's desire to rise up again. And then they showed a blazing train depot in District 6. Oh, and the fires in District 7. My god the woods were blazing. And they bombed this factory in 8, and you could hear the screams of the people inside." - and I think of Cira and her brother, trapped inside the processing plant - "But the worst of all, they blew up all of District 13. All those people. They're all dead. So you should be lucky you're alive and have some place to go to."

I sit there quietly for a while. Just thinking about everything she said. I can feel her warm hand on top of mine, and I smile.

Then there's an awful sound of doors being opened and slammed, and nurse-lady leaps up from beside me. She stuttering, and I can't seem to make out what she's saying. But she's almost out the door when a group of Peacekeepers break in.

"Maria Lopez, " says the one who's holding a gun pointing at nurse-lady's chest. "You are under arrest for treason and disobeying a government official. We are not under orders to kill you but should you resist, we are allowed to use force."

"You should be able to walk on your leg, and your nose is healing up just fine. Miss Kara's house is just down the street. That's where Marco and little Cira are. Go quickly," she shouts to me as the Peacekeepers grab her.

And then she's gone. The Peacekeepers haul her out of the room. And there's another person gone from my life (but little do I know I'll see her again).

But I don't feel like screaming or crying - I feel stronger. I went through what no one should ever have to go through, and I'm alive. I'm a little bruised – both mentally and physically – but I'm not broken. Then I realize I haven't broken the promise I made to myself. I can still learn to protect people because despite everything I'm still alive. And I don't want everything nurse-lady did to be in vain.

So taking a deep breath, I climb out of my bed. Whatever nurse-lady did, my leg feels almost perfect. Walking doesn't hurt and the dull throbbing of my head is just annoying and nothing else.

Most of the doors are open, and I easily find my way outside. I realize their hospital is the same place as ours was – the one from before the bombing – and Miss Kara's house would be where our community home was.

As I walk down the street a few people smile at me, but most look away. Maybe they're scared Peacekeepers will come for them or maybe they're embarrassed they didn't help me out. But it doesn't matter cause I'm living now, and I'll keep on living.

I see dried blood and bullet holes in the side of some houses, and I no longer feel the need to scream. I feel a million years older than my seven years, but I also feel strong.

* * *

**Remember, reviews our wonderful. We'll most definitely see the Hunger Games announcement next chapter so look forward to it.**


	5. Dark Days: Chapter 4

**So I've changed the title from _Not Without Regrets_ to _Seen It All_. There's also been a change in the summary but nothing major. The story will still be the same. **

**And I know I promised to get to the Hunger Games announcement, but I wanted to show some character development for Mags and my writing got a mind of its own.**

* * *

**Part 1: Dark Days**

I never really ever visited the community house in my village, so I don't know what to expect when I reach the front door. I remember what Marco said about avoiding the place. It's not fear that keeps me from knocking, it's my power to walk away.

There's nothing special about the building; it's old and made of the same brick and wood combination as every other house in District 4. It's definitely the largest house on the block, but that makes it feel alien. I really don't want to step inside.

But I feel like me, Marco, and Cira have some kinda bond now, and I can't just abandon them now. I've literally only known them a day, but I think they're the only ones here who will understand me. No one else here saw all we did.

So I knock on the door and a young woman opens it. She quickly puts on a smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Oh," she sighs, and I have the feeling she has seen too many children who had lost their parents. I was probably another mouth to feed and another burden to take care of. "What's your name, darling?"

"Mags Cyprus."

I can see shock in her eyes and then sadness; the hard look is gone, and she looks afraid. She must have recognized my name. "Maria?" she asks, her voice wavering. Oh.

"The Peacekeepers took her away," I tell her. Just the brief look of sadness on her face makes me want to cry, but I push it back.

She pushes back her sadness too and just nods sadly and opens the door wider to let me in. There's a sad acceptance in the way she processes the news, and I realize, like me, she has be forced to become so used to death.

"This I'll be your home now, Mags," she tells me.

'No it won't,' I tell myself as I step through the doorway.

And I can see this place is just one huge room. There's probably twenty cots around the edges of the room, and a long table in the middle and a TV on the wall. I see small groups of kids around the room; they probably range from about five years old to the oldest at possibly twelve.

I see Cira's dirty blonde hair in a group of the younger boys and girls. I hear some voices and laughter, and as much as I want to check on Cira, I can't face laughter right now. They're still so innocent over there as they try to hide from the world so they can stop crying.

Marco's sitting with two older girls and a boy who looks about my age. I look up at Miss Kara and she nods. "Go meet your new family," she tells me and slightly pushes me in that direction.

I don't want a new family, but I do want friends. So I let Miss Kara push me.

I walk over to the group, and I see a small smile creep onto Marco's face as he spots me. He slides over on the cot to make room for me.

"Guys," he says, introducing me, "this is Mags."

The two older girls introduce themselves as twin sisters, Coral and Shelby. They look so much alike that I quickly forget which one is which as soon as they tell me. The boy is Marshall.

And I see we all wear the same expression; a mixture of sadness and defiance. As I observe them, Marco tells me Coral and Shelby's parents led the rebellion here and were both killed in the Battle of the Streets, as they took to calling it. Marshall had lost his father in a boating accident and his sister was shot before a firing squad for stealing before the rebellion. He then lost his mother in the Battle of the Streets too.

They all look at me expectantly, and I realize they want to hear my story. So I tell them about the bombing and the hospital and how me, Marco, and Cira ended up here. But they seem to want to hear more and either Coral or Shelby leaned forward and nodded for me to continue. So I told them about the Peacekeepers trying to beat the little girl and how I jumped in the way. I told them how Nurse Lopez helped me and then got taken away, so I came here. I didn't tell them about the screaming because that wasn't me anymore, and Marco obviously didn't feel inclined to tell them about it.

They didn't give me looks of pity when I finished. They nodded, Marshall patted me comfortingly on the knee, and they moved on. And I liked that about them. They were all strong enough to keep living, and I feel even stronger with them.

The conversation starts up awkwardly again – probably because everyone just shared their most heart wrenching and tragic story. No one wants to seem uncaring, but no one wants to drag up more painful memories after we have all seemed to collect ourselves.

Marshall starts by telling us about his dog that would go swimming, and someone would have to go out a rescue him. Coral and Shelby tell us about all the trouble they got into for the couple weeks they were in school. Even Marco speaks up about how he once tried to train the seagulls, but it ended up backfiring. Somehow, I end up telling everyone about all the adventures I had on my father's fishing boat.

"Do you think they'll let you work on a boat now?" asks Marshall. "They're going to give all of us here jobs."

"I hope so," I tell him. "I love being out on the ocean. You can see so far into the distance you can imagine anythings out there. Sometimes you can see dolphins."

"My dad said dolphins were once humans, but they loved the water so much they changed so they could never leave it," either Coral or Shelby say.

Marco laughs a little at the story. "I want to work on the docks," he says. Smiling wickedly, he adds, "not below it this time."

I see a glint of a tear in his eye, so I wrap my arm around his shoulders. There's only so much sadness you can hide in humor. We're strong, but that doesn't mean we're invincible. He wipes the tear out of his eye, but lets Coral, Shelby, and Marshall do the rest of the talking. I'm fine just listening to their familiar banter – it reminds me of my brother and sister and for the briefest of seconds, I'm completely happy.

But of course my happiness doesn't last. Not that it completely goes away; they might not be my family, but I feel like we can all be close friends.

The conversation peters on for a while longer with no other input from me and Marco other than a smile and the occasional laugh. Soon even Shelby, Coral, and Marshall get tired of talking, and we all sit there in a comfortable silence, thinking about better times.

Miss Kara eventually interrupts our thoughts, calling us all to the center table for a late lunch that I feel will also be our diner. I find myself sitting between Marco and Shelby, who I finally figured out from her sister. I see Cira sitting between a boy and girl who look about her age. She has her smile back, and I know she is back to the girl from the hospital who's pretending everything is fine. I'm a little jealous of her, but a little sad too.

But a basket of rolls is passed around, and my only though is now food. We each get a small piece of fish and a glass of water in addition to the roll. It's not much, but it's more then I've had in a while. I break the roll in half and make myself a fish sandwich. I can see Marshall copying me, but whatever, it's a good idea.

As soon as all the food is passed around and everyone is eating, Miss Kara stands up and starts to speak. A couple kids stop eating to listen, but I just take another huge bite. You don't really realize how hungry you are until there's food in front of you. That doesn't mean I'm not listening though.

"We have three new additions today from another village," she says. I can see the kids I haven't met looking at me and Marco. "They've had a really rough week, so make sure you treat Mags, Marco, and Cira as part of our family."

I hear a friendly round of hellos which are a little awkward, so I look at my sandwich. I can't really say hello back cause my mouth is full of food and by the time I've swallowed, Miss Kara had continued her speech.

"There's a mandatory announcement in the square tomorrow after breakfast. Hopefully it will be about reopening the docks and starting school back up."

A couple of the kids groan at the thought of working and going back to school. I look at Marco, he's got his eyes narrowed at Miss Kara like he doesn't exactly believe what she's saying. And I realize I don't exactly believe it either. If the Capital could destroy my entire town and wipe District 13 off the map, why would they stop at that? Things going back to normal would be too weird.

But it looks like me and Marco are the only ones to realize it. Shelby and Coral are both nodding and so is Marshall. I could see more kids doing the same while some looked to be bored. But then I saw Cira look at Miss Kara with a confused expression on her face, and I knew she also knew something much more terrible was coming.

The kids here had seen the Capital's soldiers, but we had seen their technology; their bombs and hovercrafts. They had so much at their disposal, and we were broken. They won't stop; they had no reason to.

The rest of the meal I spent in a kinda nervous anxiety. I drummed my fingers on the table and tapped my feet on the floor. I wanted to run away so I wouldn't have to hear this announcement. I wanted something I could fight against not this horrible, overhanging threat from the Capital. So as soon as Miss Kara said we were dismissed from the table, I bolt out the door.

I run down the street until I realize no one tried to stop me. Maybe no one saw me go or they realized there wasn't anywhere I could go. I slow to walk and take a deep breath. My leg aches from the running, but the walking, surprisingly, makes the pain go away. The sun is setting and the fresh air makes it easier to think.

I just let my feet take me wherever and let my mind wander. What could be worse than bombing entire towns? Thousands of lives destroyed in an instant. Just looking back on seeing those bombs fall now made my blood boil. Those images only made me want to rebel more, but Nurse Lopez said they killed everyone's hope. They couldn't keep showing the same images, but they would want something like that – something that kills hope.

I want to scream just thinking about it, but I don't. I've done screaming for a lifetime, and I just can't anymore. They could keep bombing more places, but the Capital needs the districts for supplies or they won't have cared if the districts rebelled at all. A mass execution is all I can think of, and it's a horrible thought.

People would keep having to die; that's the only way they Capital would keep the districts in line. Fear can kill any emotion. The thought kills me, but I know that's what's going to happen. I'll have to fight the fear my entire life.

I start to form a plan in my head. I'll run everyday to get stronger; I'll make sure I learn everything in school; I'll learn how to fight and defend; I'll work on a boat and get strong from hauling fish and climbing the rigging. I won't let the fear get to me. It's a good plan, and I know it.

That's when I finally get out of my head and realize where my feet have taken me. To my home. But not really my home. But if I had lived in this identical town, this would be my home. I can see lights in the kitchen on, and a family sitting down for diner.

I quickly turn away and hurry on down the street. Soon I'm running again, and my feet take me to the beach. My leg begins to hurt again but at this point, it's easy to ignore. And I keep running until I hit the beach.

I tumble into the sand and roll around in it. I get sand up my pants and down my shirt, but I don't care. The sky is now a deep purple, and I walk closer to the water. It looks so dark and inviting that I kick my shoes and socks off and wade it. I roll up my pants and let it splash up to my knees. The salt stings in my wound, but the feeling of the water is otherwise comforting.

I just stand in the water and let everything wash away. I stay there until the sky turns as dark as the ocean and the stars start to peak out. Then I slowly walk out of the ocean and lay on the beach.

The sand sticks to my wet legs, but it doesn't bother me. It feels comforting; it feels like home.

It's early spring and the night is warm – it never gets very cold in District 4. A warm breeze wafts over me, and I close my eyes. And I fall asleep like that, with the sound of the waves hitting the beach, lulling me to sleep.

* * *

_ I'm standing on a beach, that much I can tell. There's a full moon overhead that just barely lets me see my surroundings. The stars are twinkling and the whole scene looks magical._

_ Then an ear piercing scream ruins the setting. Thunder booms and lightning flashes all around me. In each burst of light, there's an even worse image then the previous. I see dead bodies floating in the water and unattached limbs washing up on the beach. There's the scream again, and I see someone moving in the dark water._

_ Almost instinctively, I run into the water. But it's not water that I hit, it's something else. Then I feel the sticky substance against my leg and the undeniable smell reaches my nose. Blood. I'm standing in an ocean of blood._

_ There's another flash of lightning and a giant wave of blood knocks me down. Wave after wave crashes down on me until I can't get up anymore. Blood gets in my mouth, and I struggle to get to the surface. I try to spit it out but there's so much around me that I always end up swallowing more._

* * *

I wake up coughing. After a couple seconds, I realize it's just damp sand in my mouth - not blood. There's water – salt water from the ocean – splashing on my legs. I'm on the beach where I must have fallen asleep, not some nightmare world.

I slowly get up, my body cracking from having sleep on the hard sand all night. Stretching, I realize the sun is peaking over the horizon. My stomach growls, and I know I need to get back the community home before they finish breakfast. I scramble off the beach and run through the streets.

There are a couple people up, but no one really notices me. I'm so thankful for that right now. They must already think I'm crazy for allowing myself to be beaten up by a Peacekeeper. And I can't deal with anymore stares. It's easy to be strong when no one's watching, but their eyes make it a million times worse.

When I reach the street where the community home is, the sun is completely over the horizon. There is smoke coming from the chimney of the house, and I'm sure everyone is already up.

Very slowly, I walk up to the front door where I stood almost a complete day ago. This time I don't knock, I just let myself in. The whole room turns silent as I stand in the door frame.

Suddenly I'm aware of what a mess I must look like. My pants are damp, my hair's in tangles, and I'm completely covered in sand. I now realize I left my shoes on the beach in my haste to get here, and my feet are all muddy. Everyone here more or less went through what I went through, but I'm the one who looks like a complete mess.

'No,' I tell myself. 'You've gone through worse than everyone else. And you're not a mess. You're strong.'

So I pretend I don't notice their stares and walk up to the table. Marco scoots over on the bench to give me a place to sit. In reality, we barely know each other, but we are as close as family. He passes me a bowl of porridge, and I don't even wonder where he got it from, I just eat it.

There are a couple kids whispering about me, so I stare at them until they stop. I must look crazy and intimidating. I almost like it. After that, most have returned their attention to the porridge. And that's fine by me. But as soon as Miss Kara enters the room, everyone, even the most curious, look down at their porridge – everyone except me and Marco.

Miss Kara doesn't look nearly as friendly as she did yesterday. Her whole face is dark, and she's staring at me. But then she speaks, her voice is sickeningly sweet. I instantly hate it, and I miss Mother so much at that moment.

"Magdalena darling," she coos, "Where were you last night? Everyone here was ever so worried about you. We were all so afraid for a second that the Peacekeepers had come and taken you away. Weren't we everyone? "

Most children rush to nod their heads, but I can see Marco sitting still beside me and Shelby, Coral, and Marshall roll their eyes. It's such an obvious act, I wonder if anyone has ever fallen for it. My mother would have cared, oh god, she must have been so worried when she had discovered I had run off. I close my eyes for a couple seconds and direct all my sadness into anger

"I'm sorry," I tell Miss Kara, trying to spit out my words. "I wasn't aware that I had to tell you everywhere I might be going."

"You're just a girl, Magdalena," she says. She opens her mouth to continue, but I stop her.

"I'm not just a girl," I shout at her, getting up from my seat. "I saw my whole town destroyed. Everything I've ever known was blown up! And you call me a girl! I've grown ten years every day since then. I have realized stuff I probably shouldn't have! After everything I've gone through, you have the nerve to call me just a girl!"

I'm breathing heavy by the end, and I realize I'm about to cry. I try to control my breathing, but my entire body is shaking. I suck it up and sit down. I try to go back to eating my porridge, but my grip on my spoon is so tight my knuckles are completely white, and I feel to ill to swallow another spoonful.

"Is that all you have to say?" asks Miss Kara, and I can tell her act is about to break very soon.

"Yes," I tell her, trying to look unruffled. Hopefully she can't tell I'm about to break down too.

Apparently she can't because she seems to snap. She stands up at the head off the table and angrily points towards the door. "I want you out of my house," she shouts. "You can come back when you're ready to apologize and listen to me."

Struggling to push back tears, I stand up and leave the room. I don't look back because I don't want Miss Kate to see my puffy eyes. I want to run, but my leg is starting to ache again after all my movement today. So I hurry down the street until I see an alley between two shops. There are a couple people out on the streets, but no one's particularly watching me, so I duck between in the buildings.

Instantly, I crumble against the wall and cry for the first time since everything. I curl up against the wall and put my head in my hands and just cry. I cry for my family that was ripped from my hands. I cry because I'll never see them again. I cry because I can't seem to stop crying.

I don't know how long I'm sitting there crying until I feel someone sit down beside me and wrap their arms around me. I look up, but my vision is so blurry with tears that I can't see a thing. For a second, I can believe it's my brother but then I just starting crying harder because it will never be him again. I just let whoever it is continue to hold me because it feels nice.

I'm not sure how much time passes until I can't cry anymore. Tears won't come, and all I want to do now is sleep. I feel like all my energy drained away in my tears.

"Feeling better?" asks the person at my side – Marco, I recognize his voice.

I'm too tired to even respond, but somehow I do. "No," I manage to tell him, "I feel like a weak, stupid, little girl." I almost start crying again, but I stop myself.

"You're not weak," says Marco. He sounds so old, and I want to cry about how grown up he sounds. Stupid everything makes me want to cry; it's like once I start I can't stop. I hate it.

"Yes I am!" I shout at him. My nose is running down my face now and my words sound gurgled. "Look at me!"

He grabs my shoulders and spins me to face him. His face is still blurry, but I can tell he's looking straight at me.

"Do you want to know what I did after I saw the dock on fire?" he asks, but continues without waiting for my response. "I sat in my cave and cried. I just lay there for days wanting to die. I was so close to until the Peacekeepers searched the cave and found me. For some reason, they had orders to save all children. I was forced to eat and drink when all I wanted to do was die! Do you think I'm weak?"

No, I don't think he's weak. What kind of stupid question he asking.

Then it hits me, and I feel so stupid. Marco must see me how I see him – brave and unstoppable when he must feel anything but. And just because I'm crying doesn't make me weak. I try to smile at him to show that I understand, but my gross face gunk (a disgusting mixture of snot and tears) drips into my mouth, and I end up coughing instead.

I feel Marco grab the bottom of my shirt when I stop coughing. I look at him until he uses it to wipe my face off. Now my shirt's disgusting and covered in sand and my face is horribly blotchy.

"Come on, Shark," says Marco, pulling me up. "We're a team now."

I smile, though my face is still damp from my tears, as I land on my feet. A team, I like the sound of that.

* * *

**Definitely next chapter will be the announcement because Marco and Mags are heading to the square right now. I'd love to know what everyone thinks of the community home kids and Mags so far. **

**Remember, REVIEWS are always appreciated! **


End file.
